


Ghosts of Christmas Past

by the_subpar_ghost



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen, timestuck au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 04:48:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5321051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_subpar_ghost/pseuds/the_subpar_ghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Christmas story set as a follow-up to the events of my TimeStuck AU fics from a while back. What I set out to write as a cute, short little story ended up being much longer, and so I’ve split it into two parts.<br/>Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Gravity Falls Timestuck AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5250653) by [the_subpar_ghost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_subpar_ghost/pseuds/the_subpar_ghost). 



> This is a follow-up story to my TimeStuck AU fics; as such it may not make a ton of sense if read as a stand-alone!

**December 23, 2012**

Snow was falling gently as Stan Pines stood shivering under the overhang of the bus station roof. He felt his heart rate began to rise with anticipation as the rumble of a distant bus grew louder.

As the vehicle turned the corner into the station, two faces could be seen pressed up against the windows. Almost as soon as the bus shuddered to a halt, Mabel and Dipper burst through the doors and came barrelling into Stan.

“Grunkle Stan! We’re so happy to see you!!” Mabel squealed as she threw her arms around the old man.

Dipper wasn’t far behind, enveloping both his sister and his great uncle in his arms as soon as he reached them.

Stan felt his whole body grow warm with the happiness that flooded over him at the return of his family. When he’d extended the offer to their parents to let them visit for Christmas, he’d tried hard not to let his hopes get up. It was one thing to spend summer vacation away from home, but he hadn’t known how a Christmas away would appeal to the kids’ parents.

Stan had put on a brave face at the time, but in reality it had been very difficult for him to let the kids go at the end of the summer. On the day they’d had to leave Gravity Falls, Ford had opted out of coming with them to the bus stop, probably because he was too stoic and feared he might show some inkling of emotion at the departure of his great niece and nephew. So, when the bus had pulled away, Stan couldn’t help but feel the creeping return of loneliness, that old familiar beast. Sure he had his brother back, but it was a lot different around the house now without the bustling energy of two kids running around. And he couldn’t help but feel that Ford was increasingly uneasy about something, though what it was Stan couldn’t muster up the courage to ask…

But that could all be pushed aside for now. His great niece and nephew were here, and it was Christmastime!

Stan rose from the crouching position he’d assumed in order to hug the twins, and a bittersweet feeling crept over him as he noticed that they’d each grown a few inches since he’d last seen them.

“Heh, look at you two, you’re practically giants!” he commented softly. “Did I miss some pages of the calendar or have you really grown so much in just a few months?”

Dipper beamed. “I know, isn’t it great! I’m finally getting to the point where people don’t think I’m in fourth grade!”

“Haha yeah, mom’s mad that she has to keep buying him new pants every five weeks!” Mabel jibed. “Plus he’s like, a whole inch taller than I am now, so I’ve been drinking a TON of milk to try and catch up!”

Stan picked up their bags and they headed to his car. “Yeah, those growth spurts can be wild! I think Ford and I grew one foot in a summer when we were teenagers!”

Once settled in the backseat, Dipper leaned over to Mabel. “It’s weird to think of Stan and Ford as teenagers,” he whispered. “I know they’re technically twins, but it’s crazy to think about them looking the same age!”

Mabel felt a blossom of sadness grow in her chest. Dipper had never had the opportunity to see Stan and Ford when they looked the same age; it really had been remarkable how similar they had appeared.

As the snow-covered forest flashed by on the drive to the Mystery Shack, Mabel’s thoughts wandered back to her experience this summer. Right after she and Ford had appeared in 2012, she had of course told Dipper about everything that had happened. But just because a story is shared between people doesn’t mean the experience is, and Mabel had a tough time accepting that she’d always have to shoulder her time travel happenings without her brother.

She shook these sad thoughts from her head as the Shack came into view. The big letters atop the roof had been lined in blinking holiday lights, and several snowmen lined the path to the gift shop, all adorned in various merchandise.

Shaking the snowflakes from their shoulders, the trio bustled in through the back door and into the warm indoor air. Stan rushed to hang up his coat.

“Hey kids, make yourselves at home, I just got one final tour to give before we close up shop for Christmas,” he said, glancing into the hall mirror to make sure his fez was on straight. “You know where to find anything!” he said over his shoulder as he rushed past them into the gift shop.

Shrugging out of their own coats, the twins took a look around the old place. Not much was different, save for the increase of blankets strewn around and the thermostat cranked to to top setting.

The footsteps of a crowd of tourists could be heard traipsing through the Shack, most likely a herd of travellers passing through on their way to their various holiday destinations. Mabel tugged on her brother’s shirt sleeve, pulling him toward the hallway. “Let’s go see if they’ve made up any new attractions since we’ve been gone!” the girl bounced excitedly.

The two snuck around to where the end of the tour would be held, ducking behind a shelf just as Stan led the crowd around the corner.

“Well, time sure does fly when you’re having fun, am I right folks?” Stan boomed with a theatrical lilt to his voice. “Yeah yeah, time flies alright, but I think I’d like to turn some of it back…”

There was a confused and speculative murmur from the crowd as Stan made his way to a curtain suspended in the corner of the room. He turned around briefly and adjusted his eyepatch before ducking behind the curtain with a showy grin.

“I don’t remember this part of the tour,” Dipper whispered, intrigued.

With a flourish, the curtain fell to reveal what appeared to be a de-aged version of Mr. Mystery himself; his hair was now thick and brown instead of silver, and his face was smooth and wrinkle-free.

The crowd all gasped and cheered as this younger man paced around the room, bowing here and there at the applause. No one seemed to notice the extra finger adorning each of his hands.

“Holy moly, it’s Ford!” Mabel exclaimed quietly, shaking her brother.

“Thank you for your patronage, you’ve been a lovely crowd!” Ford’s voice soared over the collective awe of the audience. Quickly, as if he’d almost forgotten to say it, he threw in “Be sure to take a trip through the gift shop to pick up any last-minute holiday gifts!”

With that the crowd was ushered through the doors into the adjoining gift shop, while Ford sneakily made a beeline for the living quarters of the house.

The young twins popped out from their discreet hiding place just as Ford was passing. The man jumped back for a moment, startled, and then a grin broke across his face. “Kids! I didn’t know you were in here!”

“Great uncle Ford, that was amazing!” Dipper exclaimed as they followed him into the living room.

“Yeah, I thought you didn’t like being involved with the tours!” Mabel followed up. Over the summer, they’d tried to get Ford to join in on Mystery Shack shenanigans directly, but to no avail. He’d occasionally offer his services in designing machinery for a new exhibit or adding pyrotechnics to an existing gig, but he always refused to show up in person.

“Eh, what can I say, Stan got this idea into his head and wouldn’t let up until I agreed to do it at least a few times,” Ford shrugged sheepishly. “But how he wears this blasted suit all day is beyond me, and I feel like I’m losing more depth perception by the minute with this eyepatch!”

“Well it looked really cool, you guys make a good team!” Dipper affirmed, with Mabel nodding her head in agreement.

Ford’s smile wavered the slightest bit, his eyes darting to the side for a quick second before he recomposed his face into a happy grin. “Tell you what, I’ve got to change out of this stuffy getup; why don’t you two go get settled in the attic and we’ll reconvene in the living room while Stan closes up shop?”

They all agreed, and went their separate ways.

______________________________________

By the time the last of the tourists was gone and the final count had been done on the day’s earnings, what little daylight there had been was well on its way out. Stan walked into the living room to find Dipper and Ford deep into a game of “Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons”, and the sounds of Mabel messing around in the kitchen clamored every few seconds. He stood in the doorway for a moment and felt himself smile as he took in the sounds of everyone he loved most in the world back under one roof.

Dipper glanced up from his graph paper. “Hi Grunkle Stan! All finished with the tourists?”

Stan moseyed his way to the armchair and sank into it. “Yep, not a bad crowd, bought tons of merchandise!”

Mabel popped her head in the living room at the sound of all of them together. “Oh good, Grunkle Stan, you’re just in time!”

“In time for what, sweetie?”

Mabel gave an enormous, braces-filled grin. “My latest concoction! Hot holiday Mabel Juice!!” She whipped out a tray containing four mugs with a suspicious amount of glitter lining the rims.

Dipper groaned while Stan suppressed a shudder. “Come on, Mabel, I think I’ve had enough of that stuff to last me a lifetime,” her brother griped, rolling his eyes.

“Uh, I think I’m missing something… dare I ask what’s Mabel Juice?” Ford hesitantly inquired.

Mabel sauntered over to where everyone was sitting, handing out mugs to each of her family members. “It’s my own special recipe, it’s delicious!” she sang out.

Ford eyed the contents, unsure. With a shrug, he held out his mug to his great niece, who clinked it against her own. “To our health…” he toasted skeptically before taking a swig.

His family looked on at him, anticipating his reaction. Ford smacked his lips together a couple times, and then grinned. “Hm, not bad,” he affirmed, taking another gulp. Stan and Dipper gazed at him in shock, as Mabel bounced up and down with excitement.

“So you actually like it?” Mabel beamed.

“I’d hate to know how much sugar is in it, but I can already feel myself buzzing with energy! I wish I’d have had this stuff in college, finals week would have been a piece of cake!”

Mabel shot an I-told-you-so look at Dipper. “I knew that  _someone_  in this family would appreciate culinary perfection when they saw it!”

They all laughed and spent the rest of the evening catching up on the past few months. Mabel and Dipper informed their grunkles on the trials and tribulations of the eighth grade, what new movies were worth seeing and which could be skipped, and how Waddles was adjusting to the California climate.

Eventually the clock chimed the late hour, and Stan suggested it would be a good idea to hit the hay. As he stood up from his chair, a couple of his joints popped and he winced. “Darn cold weather, eh? Here’s a word to the wise kids, never get old!”

Dipper and Mabel laughed along with Stan at this, but Mabel spied out of the corner of her eye that Ford just looked away uncomfortably. She turned to get a better view of this behavior, but Ford stood up and turned away before she could get a good read.

They all bid each other goodnight, and the younger twins made the familiar trek back up to the attic. Dipper walked over to the bedside table and took down a contraption that Ford had left for them, a space heater that when operational warmed the room to a comfortable temperature almost immediately.

Mabel popped open her suitcase and retrieved two brightly wrapped parcels, quickly sliding them under her bed. They left a faint trail of glitter that she and Dipper had to team up to blow away. “I really hope Stan and Ford like my presents for them,” Mabel worried aloud when the task was complete.

Dipper climbed into his bed, pleased to see that his legs were almost long enough to reach the end now. “I’m sure they will, Mabel. Ford wears sweaters all the time, and when have you ever known Stan to  _not_  like something you made for him?” He gave his sister a reassuring smile.

“Thanks bro-bro,” Mabel smiled back. Flopping back onto her own mattress, she let out a happy sigh. “Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve! I’m so excited, I don’t know how I’ll sleep!”

“Eh, that’s probably just the Mabel Juice talking,” Dipper joked, and ducked laughing when Mabel chucked a stuffed animal at his head.

They each settled down into their beds and cut the light.

“Goodnight Dipper!”

“Goodnight, Mabel!”

_________________________________________________

The next day began bright and early, with Stan flipping pancakes and Mabel reheating last night’s Mabel Juice for herself. Dipper sat at the table reading through the Gravity Falls newspaper in an attempt to be more of an adult. Around 8:45, Ford shuffled into the kitchen in pajama pants and an old t-shirt, brown hair sticking out in every direction.

Everyone knew better than to try and talk to him before he’d poured himself a cup of coffee; ever since he’d been living with his brother, Stan had tried to get him to regulate his sleep schedule. It had worked to some extent, but now that he didn’t have any earth-shattering work to keep him up at late hours, it seemed he was using his time to catch up on all the sleep he’d missed during years of intensive research.

After a few sips of his coffee, Ford began to liven up. He glanced over to where his niece was sitting and writing out a list of some kind. “What’s that you’re working on, Mabel?”

Mabel finished what she was scribbling out and held up the notebook for all to see. “It’s a list of all the Christmas Eve activities we have to accomplish today!” she exclaimed, and began to gloss over the itinerary. “There’s a marathon of Christmas movies on today, including the Ducktective Quackmas Special…there are cookies to make and decorate, gingerbread houses…oh, and Grunkle Stan, we need to put up your Christmas tree!”

“Uh, we could run into a problem there…” Stan grabbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“What’s the matter?” Mabel asked, concerned.

“Thing is, I don’t have a Christmas tree,” Stan turned around to look at her. “I mean, I haven’t really had anyone to celebrate a Christmas with in forty-odd years, so it was just never something I bothered with.”

The room was quiet for a moment, its occupants speechless from this somber explanation.

“I can go into the woods and find a good tree for us today,” Ford offered gently from his position across the room.

Stan smiled at the suggestion, lightening the mood considerably. “That solves it then, tree is taken care of!”

“Okay then, so left on the list is…” Mabel continued reading out tasks, ignoring the uneasy feeling in her stomach when she saw Ford silently step out of the room.

“Well, that’s quite a list you’ve got there,” Stan chuckled when she was finished. “Sound’s like we’d better get crackin’!”

After spending a good part of the morning preparing stacks of gingerbread, Stan, Dipper, and Mabel set up a construction station in front of the tv in the living room so they could watch the Ducktective special while they made their gingerbread houses. They were hard at work when Ford peaked into the living room from the hallway, now dressed for the day in black pants and a sweater.

“I’m headed out to get that tree,” he announced over the volume of the tv. Stan and Dipper were busy concentrating on attaching the roof of their gingerbread house to the walls, and wished him luck without even looking up. Mabel glanced up into the hallway where Ford was pulling on a coat and hat, and then back at Dipper and Stan. It had turned out that gingerbread house- building was an activity that they both enjoyed with a passion, and they’d quickly begun to collaborate on a single project. It made her happy to see them working together so nicely.

The door shut behind Ford and she saw him pass by the window on his way to the woods. In that instant, the girl made a snap decision. Being careful not to upset the table tray that Dipper and Stan were building upon, she stood up and made her way toward the hallway. “I’m going to go out with Ford, to make sure he picks out a good tree and everything,” she rushed, pulling on her snow boots and coat.

“Have fun, sweetie,” Stan shouted over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off their work. The old man and the boy went back to talking schematics for the structure, and Mabel smiled as she pulled on her earmuffs. Turning around, she quickly scampered out the door to catch up with Ford before he disappeared into the woods.


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn’t too difficult to follow the fresh footprints in the snow, and before long Mabel spied her great uncle up ahead where the trees began to grow thick. She slowed to a walk and approached him, accidentally snapping a branch underfoot when she was a few yards away. At the sound, Ford whipped around and assumed a defensive position, hand flying back to something strapped on his belt.

Yelping with alarm, the girl threw up her hands. “It’s me! It’s Mabel!”

Ford’s wide eyes softened as he straightened up again. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you were out here!” He babbled, quickly clipping whatever he’d grabbed from his belt back in place. “I thought that maybe a gremloblin had snuck up on me, can never be too careful in these woods you know,” he laughed. It sounded strained, a sort of forced joviality.

“I just thought maybe you’d want help with the tree, that I could help pick it out and everything?” Mabel asked, drawing nearer now that she knew the situation was safe.

“Sure, sure, that sounds good,” the man said off-handedly, as if the tree were in fact the last thing on his mind. The pair continued their walk into the forest.

After a few minutes, Ford seemed to wake up, and glanced down at Mabel. “Hey, doesn’t this mean you’re missing out on gingerbread houses and that duck show you love?” he asked with genuine interest.

Mabel shuffled her feet a little. “Well, yeah, but that’s okay, Dipper and Stan looked like they were gonna kick my butt at gingerbread construction anyway. And really…” she took a deep breath. “Really I wanted to come and talk to you, away from the others.”

Ford gave her a curious glance but kept moving forward, unphased. “Well, that certainly sounds heavy. What would you like to talk about?” he responded, not unkindly.

The girl readjusted her earmuffs, trying to think how she wanted to phrase her words. “I’ve just noticed that you’ve seemed kinda  _sad_ while we’ve been back,” she explained softly. Ford stopped walking and looked down at her with concern.

“What do you mean, Mabel?” he asked, his eyebrows knitting worried lines into his forehead.

“Well…” the girl sighed. “Like yesterday after you and Stan did that trick where it looked like he transformed into a younger person, there was a second when you just looked a bit…” here Mabel paused to search for the right word. “ …distraught. And last night before we all went to bed, you just kind of slinked out of the room, all glum. Then there was-”

Her train of thought was suddenly halted when she caught sight of Ford’s face. He looked absolutely heartbroken, a man who had been shouldering a burden that was just now coming to light.

“F-ford, what’s-” she sputtered.

“No, Mabel, keep going,” he urged softly.

After a moment, she continued.

“I was just going to say, that when I noticed it most was this morning, when Stan was talking about not having a Christmas tree…” she let her words hang in the air, and watched as Ford let his anguished eyes fall shut. Opening them, he spied a fallen tree trunk and walked over to it, dusting the snow off its surface with his arm and taking a seat. He looked back at the girl and patted the spot next to him with his hand, indicating that she was welcome to sit there.

Mabel took the invitation and sat down, grabbing her young great uncle’s hand in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. He gave a small, pained smile at this, and squeezed her hand slightly before speaking.

“I didn’t think I was letting it show, but it was obviously enough for you to pick up on, so I suppose I’ve been doing a poor job,” he began, looking off into the forest. “You’re right, Mabel. Lately I’ve become very sad about things.”

Mabel felt her blood go cold at the news that someone she loved was unhappy. Looking up at him, she spoke. “What’s making you feel like this, great uncle Ford?”

He inhaled deeply, as if building himself up for something. “Do you remember the day we arrived here, in the year 2012 I mean?” he said in a small voice.

Mabel nodded, silently. Ford almost never talked about their experience from thirty years ago; she believed that it was because he felt ashamed of himself and how he’d let things get so out of control.

He resumed his speech. “I don’t believe I ever talked to you about it, but the last thing I saw before we were transported forward through time was Stanley. Even after there was that flash and the device was activated, and,” he gave a small cough, “ and Bill was ejected from my body, I still got a glimpse of Stan. And then when we arrived here, in this time, I was met by an old man who shared my brother’s face.”

A silent tear began to trickle down Ford’s face, and Mabel gazed at him in awe, shocked by the uncharacteristic way he was sharing these deeply personal memories.

“So for the rest of this summer, I of course was forced to face the fact that my own twin brother is now, in all technical sense, more than three decades older than I am. But the full reality of it didn’t hit until you kids left to return home.” He swung his head to look down at Mabel, his eyes now fully brimming with unshed tears. “I hadn’t realized just how much energy he forced himself to have while you kids were around, how much younger he made himself appear while in your presence. He truly is getting older, and I am lagging thirty years behind…” Ford’s voice broke. “For so many years he was alone, without me or anyone, and now I am beginning to see that at some point I’m going to have to sleep in this mess of a bed I’ve made, and that there will come a day when I’ll have to face life without him…”

Mabel leaned in and hugged the man tightly around his middle as he struggled to stifle his sobs. She knew on some level how horrible it felt to be stuck in a time that wasn’t yours, and her heart ached to know the source and extent of Ford’s pain. Putting herself in his shoes, she realized with horror how she would feel if she had to watch Dipper getting older every day while she stayed young; she already worried a bit that he was trying to grow up too fast anyway.

She hugged her great uncle as tightly as she could, hoping to convey as much empathy in the embrace as possible. After a period, he forced his breathing to an even state and gazed hollowly into the distance. His hand gingerly patted Mabel’s arm a few times as he sighed, “I’m sorry that you’ve had to hear all this, Mabel, I truly am. No one your age should have to deal with this kind of burden.”

She drew back so that she was still in a position to face him. There were so many things she wished she could say to him, to fulfil the need she had to comfort someone in such obvious pain. After thinking for a few brief seconds, she met his gaze and began to speak.

“Great uncle Ford, when I was with Stan, I mean, 30-years-ago Stan…he said more than once how even though you two had had some issues, he still loved you, and that that’s what really mattered.” She heard Ford’s breath hitch next to her, but continued. “He didn’t give up on you, or on us showing up again, and I don’t think we should give up either. I mean,” here, the girl felt a few of her own tears begin to roll down her cheeks. “I know that it’s sad to think about everyone getting older, but thinking about that all the time won’t make anyone happy, will it?”

She paused and raised a hand to wipe away her tears. Turning back to Ford, she gave a watery smile. “We’ve just all gotta love each other while we still can, ya know?”

Meeting her eyes, Ford coughed a couple times before letting a hesitant smile creep across his features. His eyes softened as he looked down at his niece.

“You’re a good person, Mabel, I hope you know that. And wise beyond your years,” he followed up in slight awe.

“Well, you know me,” the girl replied, a playful grin appearing on her face, “I  _have_  seen more years than your average 13-year old!”

In spite of himself, Ford felt a real, unburdened laugh bubble to his lips, the first in a while. “I suppose I can’t argue with you there,” he responded.

“That’s the power of Mabel!” she said brightly, giving a theatrical wink and returning Ford’s grin.

Ford let out a deep breath and stood up, sweeping the light dusting of snow from himself as he did so. Raising his hands to his hips, his eyes scanned the immediate area. “We’d better be getting around to finding a tree before the whole day’s gone,” he announced, turning his attention back to Mabel.

Nodding her head, the girl leapt off the tree trunk and trekked ahead, stopping every few feet to inspect the prospects of surrounding trees. Eventually they found a perfectly-sized small evergreen, which Ford was able to cut down with a small yet powerful saw he’d invented.

As they made their way back to the Shack, Mabel babbled on happily about Christmas activities while Ford contentedly stayed silent and listened, dragging the small tree behind him through the snow.

“And I don’t want to spoil anything, but I really think you’re going to like Dipper’s gift for you! And-”

“Mabel, I have a question for you,” Ford interjected.

“Sure, what’s up?” the girl’s big eyes turned to question him.

“Well, it’s been some time since I’ve had a real Christmas either, or since I’ve had much family to celebrate the occasion with,” he began. “I usually just stayed at home and worked. Of course, Fiddleford was always kind enough to invite me to celebrate with him, especially once he had a family of his own, but I always felt like an intrusion so I kept to myself. Anyway,” he shifted gears, seeing the pitying expression that was making its way onto Mabel’s face. “It’s been a while, and I’ve never been good at coming up with gift ideas…do you think you could help me make something for Stan this year?”

Mabel beamed. Ford was asking for her help in the creativity department!

“Of course I can! I mean, we don’t have a lot of time left since tomorrow’s Christmas already, but I can always make more hot Mabel Juice to keep us going! And I brought all my emergency craft supplies just in case!”

Ford couldn’t help but grin at her enthusiasm. “All right then, maybe this evening we can get to work on something, that gives us the day for brainstorming. And Mabel,”

He looked down at the girl, a grateful glint in his eye. “Thank you, for everything. I hadn’t realized how much I needed a friendly ear to listen to me, and I truly appreciate what you did today.”

Mabel gave a small grin and waved her hand through the air. “Oh, you know, what’s family for?”

“Well, I’m glad to call you part of my family, then,” her great uncle said with a smile as he resumed dragging the tree back to the house. Mabel remained where she was for a few seconds, smiling to herself.

 _Yeah, it’s good to have family_ , she thought, and then ran forward to help him take the tree into the house.

________________________________________

The remainder of the day was a flurry of Christmas activities. Mabel and Ford returned to the house to find that Stan and Dipper had constructed a pretty accurate gingerbread rendition of the Mystery Shack, complete with cookie doppelgangers of each of them. Mabel even swooped in and painted on a little frosting fez for one of them and a sweater on another, naming them the “gingerbread Stans”.

The tree fit well in the corner of the living room, and since Stan had no ornaments of which to speak, they compensated by raiding the gift shop for things to adorn the branches. By the time they were finished, the tree was covered in a unique mix of UFO keychains, price tag slips, and snowflakes that Mabel cut out of brochures and travel maps. Finally, they crowned the top branch not with a star or an angel, but Stan’s fez. It was a strange and wondrous sight to behold.

Evening came and the whole group gathered in front of the tv set to watch the showing of “It’s A Wonderful Life”, hot cocoa in hand. Mabel squeezed into the armchair next to Stan, while Dipper and Ford spread out on the floor. Mabel had been enjoying the story but found it hard to concentrate on the old black-and-white film, and so didn’t even notice she had drifted to sleep until she felt a gentle hand shaking her shoulder.

“Mabel,” she heard a voice whisper. Letting her eyes flutter open, she saw Ford leaning over the armchair. She gingerly moved her head to the side and saw that Stan and Dipper were out cold as well. Being careful to move as little as possible, the girl eased herself out of the chair.

Ford jerked his head in the direction of the hallway, indicating that she should follow.

Just a second, she mouthed the words, grabbing a couple blankets to drape over her sleeping brother and grunkle. Satisfied that they were properly cozy, she turned around and followed Ford.

“Were you able to come up with any cool gift ideas?” Mabel asked in a hushed tone once they were in the hallway.

The man looked absentmindedly at his hands as he spoke. “Well, I was trying to think of something that Stanley and I both had in common, an interest we both shared, and my thoughts kept coming back to this dream we both had as kids where…” he looked at Mabel sheepishly. “when we were kids we found this old boat and called it the Stan-o-War, and we always said that we were going to sail the world and be international treasure hunters. Can you imagine it?” he laughed, but Mabel noticed that there was still a wistful look in his eye when he said it.

“Ahem,” he gave a small cough, as if to bring himself back to the present. “I was thinking that we could build a miniature version of the Stan-o-War for him. I suppose I just want him to know that I still cherish those memories of us together as kids, and this seems like a good way to do it. What do you think?” he asked, blushing. “Do you think it sounds too…sappy?”

Mabel felt her heart melt at the idea. “I think it’s perfect,” she assured him, and with that they went up to the attic to get to work.

After they were satisfied with what they had made, Mabel found a box they could put their tiny Stan-o-War in, and added a simple bow to complete the gift.

“All finished,” she huffed with pride, and they quietly descended the steps downstairs. After Ford had stashed the gift in his bedroom, they returned to the living room.

Ford clicked the tv off while Mabel shook Dipper and then Stan awake. “Come on you two, you don’t want to spend Christmas Eve sleeping in the living room!”

Stan scrubbed his face and put his glasses on. “Mm yeah, we’ve probably scared Santa away or whatever already. Sorry everyone, no presents, Christmas is cancelled!”

Mabel and Dipper tacked Stan back into the chair as they all laughed at his joke, and then wished everyone good night as they retreated upstairs to their beds.

“Bright and early for Christmas morning tomorrow!” Mabel commanded from the top of the stairs with Dipper nodding behind her.

“Yeah yeah, get to bed, ya gremlins!” Stan called back up to them.

The snow fell softly outside, blanketing the world in soft silence.

___________________________________

The younger twins flew down the stairs early the next morning, each carrying the parcels they’d brought with them. Mabel was almost certain that they’d beat their great uncles to the tree, but much to her surprise, they turned the corner and were met with the sight of Stan and a still-groggy Ford, and a few brightly wrapped boxes already sitting under the tree.

“Merry Christmas!” Dipper and Mabel chorused, setting their gifts next to the existing ones.

Without wasting any time, the present exchange began in earnest. Dipper insisted on giving his gifts first; for Stan he’d gotten a magic eight ball where all the responses were catchphrases Stan used as Mr. Mystery, and for Ford he’d gotten the latest DD&MD expansion pack. Mabel’s gifts were predictable but very appreciated: a sweater for each grunkle. For Ford she’d stiched in an outer space scene with planets, stars, and a UFO, while Stan’s was embroidered with a pattern of red boxing gloves. Both men gratefully donned their new sweaters immediately.

In turn, Dipper and Mabel each opened their gifts from both grunkles. Dipper opened his box to find a state of the art telescope set, while Mabel was thrilled to receive the largest arts and craft kid she’d ever layed eyes on.

Hugs were exchanged and everyone settled back to investigate and talk about their new gifts. Looking up, Mabel saw Ford nervously wringing his hands. Catching his gaze, she gave him an encouraging nod, and he smiled.

Ford got up and fished out the small box hidden deep behind the tree and gingerly set it on the armrest of Stan’s chair. Stan looked up, surprise painting his face.

“What’s this, Sixer?” he asked with astonishment. His brother just shrugged, with an anticipatory smile breaking across his face.

“Merry Christmas, Stanley. Open it,” he urged.

Stan lifted the ribboned lid from the box and stared into it, his face a blank slate. Ford leaned in, a worried look knitting his brow. “Do you like it, Stan? I know it’s not-”

“It’s perfect,” Stan whispered, a happy teardrop falling from his eye as he lifted up the miniature boat. He stroked the bow of the ship with his thumb and turned to his brother. “You even remembered the name,” he smiled, his voice choked with emotion.

Ford gave a wavering smile, obviously touched by his twin’s emotional response to the gift. “Look in the box again, there’s more,” he said, pointing inside.

Carefully setting down the boat on the nearby table, Stan dug around in the small box until his hand appeared with a small, neatly-folded piece of paper. Mabel shot Ford an intrigued look; this was obviously an addition he’d come up with all on his own.

Unfolding it, Stan’s eyes scanned back and forth as he tried to comprehend the words printed across it. Amazed, he returned his gaze to his brother. “Ford, if I’m right about what I just read…”

He let the paper rest on the armchair, revealing the image of a small tugboat and a headline that said “for sale” in blocky letters.

Ford gave a crooked grin as he grabbed the paper and glanced over it. “Well, I saw an ad from the Foss Maritime Company in Washington state…I guess they’re selling off some of their old tugboats. I know it’s no sailboat,” he laughed nervously, raising his eyes to meet his brother’s. “But I thought that maybe, if you wanted to…we could get one to fix up and call our own? Maybe spend some time exploring the high seas a bit -”

He was cut off as Stan enveloped him in a crushing hug. “Thank you, Stanford,” he voiced, raising a hand clear his eyes of the joyful tears that had formed there.

Stepping back, Stan Pines took in the room, heart bursting with happiness at all the people inside of it. “You know,” he addressed them, grinning like a madman, “I don’t think I could have asked for a better Christmas.”

No one disagreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was partially inspired by this lovely art: http://stepzour.tumblr.com/post/133531286194/random-thought-in-which-ford-had-an-art-session


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